


Spreading Warmth

by youkokurama



Category: Actor RPF, Armie Hammer/Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 22:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11930889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youkokurama/pseuds/youkokurama
Summary: Henry experiences Armie's specialty.





	Spreading Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so happy --- just in time for Armie's birthday! (August 28... and I didn't even know XD). Happy birthday to my lovely tall ray of sunshine~~~

Henry knew that he had woken up too late for his usual morning run, as the too bright and too cheerful California sun seemed to mock him full blast from the French windows. It bathed his whole room in this blinding yellow light, reflecting off surfaces and creating all sorts of harsh flares that seemed to converge on him alone, making him groan and pull the covers over his head to hide from it all.

  
His limbs and muscles seemed to ache even with such little movement. Even with closed eyelids he can see the flares, and feels his equilibrium spin as he mentally tries to find some spot dark and steady.

  
He waited it out, until he felt like the darkness wouldn't make him lurch, until he could feel only the general heaviness throughout his whole body glueing him down onto a too-warm bed. His spine, his nape, feels especially chilly strangely, that with much effort he draws the covers up further at his back but it doesn't have that much effect.

  
His throat also felt scratchy. He wanted to at least slouch up and drink that usual bottle of water he leaves by his bedside but his body and head just felt like lead.

  
He dimly heard Kal's bark somewhere from his side, and his hand shoots out from the sheets to blindly reach for his boy. He feels Kal's nose nudge at his hand, before letting out a sound that's somewhat like a plaintive whimper, reminding him that it's way past their breakfast time.

  
He groans again, forcing himself to crawl out of the blankets a bit to pull at the bag of treats by the lamp. Grabbing a handful and letting Kal gobble it up from his outstretched hand as he burrows the rest of himself back in his cocoon of cotton, he thinks just a few minutes shut-eye and then he'll really get up and give Kal proper food.

  
Just as he was about to drift off, his phone from somewhere whips out some mean Armin van Burren forcing him to grope around and pick up the call. Distantly he figures he's really out of it since he didn't even screen the call by looking at the caller ID first. "Hello?" he managed to rasp out.

  
"About time you picked up, man!" the voice on the other line exclaimed. Then a pause. "Uh, is this you, Henry?"

  
He can't help but smile a bit. Sometimes the other man's sunny disposition was just too infectious for his own good. "Armie."

  
"Heyyyy. You sound weird. Are you sick?"

  
"Just a bit under the weather, I guess. Be ok in a bit."

  
Armie hums from the other line. "Not sure about that. Better check up on you. I'll be coming over, ok?"

  
"You don't have to ---"

  
"I insist. I've been wanting to meet up with you anyway. I'll even bring food."

  
Henry willed himself not to flush at the thought that Armie had wanted to see him. He just reasons that anybody who receives such kind words would no doubt be touched anyway --- he's just not used to receiving it from another guy. "My favorite burger, will you?"

  
Armie laughed. "Sure, sure. Is it still the same address?"

  
Henry gave him the code to his flat before exchanging goodbyes. Honestly, he wasn't really feeling up to par with having any guests at the moment, but the other man was insistent and his too polite upbringing wouldn't let him say no. Maybe by the time he wakes up again he'll have more energy to face a no doubt boisterous Armie Hammer. He'll just get his burger and chat a bit, before sending him off.

  
With what he thinks was a pretty good plan, he wasn't even aware he had drifted off to sleep.

 

 

  
He thought he was hearing his name. There was also this sudden feeling that he was not alone in his room, counting off Kal, so he finds himself waking with a slight start.

  
And looking up at a hovering Armie, who has this uncertain look on his face as he reaches out and places his huge palm under his fringe.

  
" --- Henry. Sorry for waking you, but Jesus, you're burning up."

  
He blinks slowly, feeling his eyes also uncharacteristically hot, as opposed to his friend's relatively cool hand. He had almost leaned into its soothing comfort before mentally and physically keeping himself in check. Armie shifts a bit from his perch by his side, and he winces at the sudden assault of incandescent on his vision, making him squeeze his eyes shut and roll partly away, dislodging Armie's hand.

  
"Oh, sorry about that. It was too dark in here." He feels the bed springing back as Armie apparently stands up. He burrows himself further into his sheets, before remembering that he had not even given Armie a proper greeting yet, and when he opens his eyes the overhead lights are now off and the room was faintly lit by the lamp by his reading sofa at the far corner of his room. He glances up at his windows, and was quite surprised to see it already dark out, with streaks of rain all over the glass.

  
"Sorry. Have you been here long?" he managed to croak out, forcing himself to try to sit up at least. But Armie was already at his side in an instant, stopping him before he could and gently pushing him back down.

  
"Don't bother to get up. And no, not really. Just long enough to have Kal bark at me before perching his head back on your bed. It was so cute," Armie grins. "I didn't want to wake you, but I wasn't sure... did you even have dinner already?"

  
Henry frowns. He had been that long out? And he didn't even hear Kal barking?

  
Armie takes his expression as a no. "I thought so. Stay put, I'll be right back." Armie moves away again, but Henry's hand feebly grabs at the end of his shirt.

  
"Wait," he forces himself to speak despite the dryness in his throat. "I haven't fed Kal yet. If you could..."

  
Armie looks at him sympathetically. "Of course." He begins walking to the open door, then turns his attention back to Kal as he reaches the frame. "Come on now, boy."

  
Kal just stayed on his haunches for a bit, tongue lolling as he seems to gauge this new stranger ordering him around. When Armie calls again, the dog seemed to decide that he's not playing, and trots over to follow Armie out.

  
He's such a bad host, Henry thinks. Having to make his guest feed his dog like that. But at least Kal's fed. He can't just ignore his pet that long.

  
He rolls over again and half-stretches to reach for the water bottle by his bedside to take a chug. Barely even lifting himself by his elbows, he feels impossibly tired and dizzy somehow. The headache also rattles his vision, and it took all his willpower not to feel too sick with the water he has to consume. That as soon as he was able to get at least a little water for his throat and put the bottle back, he faceplants into his pillow.

  
Several minutes later he dimly hears Armie saying his name again, then feels a hand squeeze at the back of his shoulder. "Hey buddy, you still with me? You have to eat."

  
Henry squints sideways to the sight of a steaming bowl beside the paper bag of his favorite burger joint on a breakfast tray, being placed on the table beside him. That gave him incentive to push himself up to a sitting position, with Armie helping him detangle from the sheets and smooth it out to a more orderly and roomy fashion. As soon as he was propped up against some pillows, Armie places the tray of food over his lap. His stomach growls a little as he takes a whiff of the soup, reminding him how hungry he actually is. He also notices some pills at the corner.

  
"Classic chicken soup. I had a feeling you'll need it when I heard you on the phone," Armie says as he digs into the soup first. It just smells too delicious. After blowing at it a little to cool it down on his spoon, it feels delightfully warm, tasty, and easy on his aching throat.

  
"Thank you. This is so good. Where did you get this?"

  
"I made it."

  
Henry's eyebrow lifted in disbelief. "Really?"

  
"I did!" Armie exclaims defensively, then mock pouts. "You still don't believe my cooking prowress, after all those days we lived together?"

  
Henry snorts a little. He does remember that time that Susan and the creatives in Warner Bros had them live together for a short time for The Man from UNCLE. To help them further build chemistry and synchronicity, they said. He might be remembering a bit too pleasantly, he thinks, and he ducks his attention back into his soup to shake those other unexpectedly warm feelings from showing on his face. He hadn't really expected to enjoy those days, when at first he didn't know what to do, admittedly petrified and sometimes annoyed on having such a bubbly person around, occasionally pulling out a practice karate chop at him whenever he rounds a corner.

  
"I still can't believe you can cook something as good as this." He does remember those nice full meals though, and all those meat dishes the producers had to make them slow down on. Apparently meat was Armie's specialty.

  
"You have a real funny way with compliments, Cavill." Armie tries to keep an offended face, but his lips were still twitching into a grin, as if pleased that Henry liked his soup enough.

  
"And thanks for the burger. I'll be eating it soon as I finish with this. I'll pay you later."

  
Armie waves that off. "Don't be ridiculous. My treat. Besides, we yet have to see if you can even take solid food."

  
Henry felt like Armie had cursed the idea into his head, because he was already almost to the bottom of that nice bowl of soup when his stomach started to feel quite queasy, that as much as he wanted to he just couldn't take another spoonful without feeling like throwing up. Looking a bit miserably at Armie and at the thought of wasting food, "I'm really sorry."

  
"It's ok." Armie gently pried the spoon off his fingers and rearranged everything on the tray to be carried off, including the paper bag with Henry's favorite burger. "There's still some more in the fridge in case you get hungry later." He nods at the pills on the tray. "You better take your meds now."

  
Henry quickly downed the pills as Armie carries the tray out of the room. He was about to doze off again propped against the pillows when Armie returned with a basin filled with steaming water. Henry smells isopropyl alcohol from it.

  
"Sorry, but you have to change out of those soaked clothes first. And I'm going to change your sheets," Armie announced, putting down the basin at his bedside table.

  
Henry blinked at his friend, not quite processing everything just yet. "What? Why?"

  
"Can't let you get any worse. I don't think you'd want that either, considering how busy you are." Armie wrings out a washcloth from the basin. "Just a little sponge bath, you're so sweaty and you can't sleep drenched like that," he replies to Henry's questioning eyes. "Take off your shirt first though. You can do this yourself, right?" he asks, laying out the wrung cloth at the edge of the basin. Then he straightens and looks around the room. "Where's your closet again?"

  
Henry inclines his head at the far left corner of his room. "The white sliding doors."

  
As Armie stalks off, Henry can't help but wonder since when Armie became this... motherly. He can't help but miss his mother back home, the way she would fuss over him when he was much younger. As he strips off his shirt despite his aching body, he can't help but realize how terribly lonely he had been all these years while pursuing his dream to be an even bigger actor in America. The surprisingly cooling relief he's getting from running the washcloth, soaked with alcohol and water, over his neck to wipe off the sweat was distracting him from any more brooding thoughts however.

  
Armie comes back not just with a fresh shirt. Apparently he also found new blankets and sheets. He sets these at the foot of the bed, picking up only the shirt as he sits by Henry's bedside. "You're doing it too slow. Can't have you bare for too long, or you might catch the flu instead," he clucks a bit disapprovingly, before sequestering the washcloth from Henry's hand to his surprise. "Have you gotten your chest yet?"

  
Henry was about to respond that he had barely started there but the words just died on his lips when Armie just started wiping briskly down his front, only stopping when he has to wash out the cloth and wring it out. He willed himself not to blush at how embarrassing the situation is, that another person that is not his mother is doing this to a grown man like him, but Armie only had the face of complete concentration as he runs the cloth over his sides and torso stopping only at his waistband.

  
He was even more embarrassed at how he even dares to think of anything else less innocent about his friend when Armie is simply just being unexpectedly sweet and doting as usual. He's most likely this caring to all his friends, and Henry's just one in those circles of friends.

  
It was just so distracting how he feels distinctly the heat radiating off Armie's hand though, even if he was not really touching him. When Armie does touch him, to pull and stretch out each of his arms towards him for better access to rub it down fast as well, he can't help the slight tremor down his spine from that one warm point on his wrists where those long elegant fingers hold it up. Armie, thankfully, does not seem to notice.

  
"Turn around. Your back," Armie instructed, rinsing the cloth again. And Henry felt so sheepish as he does as told, wishing that this torture would end soon.

  
"I'm really sorry. I just can't believe I can get sick like this," Henry speaks up, trying to make the atmosphere lighter for himself. Armie may not even be feeling awkward about all of this, but he is and he doesn't want his friend thinking that something's wrong by staying silent.

  
"Well, contrary to popular belief, you're not actually Superman in real life, so of course you could get sick. California weather just finally got to you." Armie was quick going through his back, thankfully. "Where's your agent anyway? You should've called him."

  
"I don"t. He's on leave. And not for things like this."

  
"BS. You can't just let your fever get up like this. Sometimes you're just too nice for your own good."

  
Henry was about to object, but had to hold a breath when he felt Armie slightly loom over him from behind, only to slink an arm around him to press the fresh shirt into his hand. "Just wait a bit for your back to dry, then put that on. I also need to change your sheets now."

  
He twists back at Armie, who was already at the foot of the bed laying out the sheets looking for the correct edges, "Let me help you. You shouldn't even be doing that."

  
Armie huffs. "Why not? Are you hiding something nasty in your bed?" he lifts an eyebrow suggestively, which makes Henry ball up his old shirt to chuck it at that teasing face. It fell short though, and Armie can't help but laugh at that. "You're even too weak to do anything. C'mon, get up from there."

  
Henry makes a face at him, then tries to stand up. He almost stumbles forward though, as the action made his vision spin for a while. From the corner of his eye he could see Armie watching his every move.

  
"Can you make it to the chair on your own?"

  
Henry waves off a hand at any attempt of help Armie might be thinking of, and trudges to the reading sofa. He puts on the shirt once he crashes onto the cushion, and slightly curls into the throw feeling so uncharacteristically worn out from all the effort. Kal bounds back into the room and slinks around his feet, and he reaches down to stroke through whichever part of that fur he could reach as he closes his eyes.

  
He must have fallen asleep a bit again, as he feels Armie gently nudging his shoulder after a while. "The bed's done. You can get in now."

  
Henry cracks open his eyes just as Armie draws away. He felt a hand settle near the base of his spine as he stood up and sleepily walks back to the bed. "Thanks, I'm really sorry you have to do all these."

  
"Stop being ridiculous, Henry. Next time just call someone to help. Or call me."

  
_I can't just call someone I'm besotted with, can I?_ he thought wearily, getting under the covers with much protesting from his muscles.

  
"What did you say?"

  
Henry froze. Now he's not sure if he actually spoke those thoughts out loud. Hopefully whatever fever he has now was doing a good job of hiding the creeping flush on his face and neck. "What?" he says gruffly instead, huddling under the new blankets and avoiding looking at Armie's face, trying to keep himself warm from all those chills starting to creep again from his back.

  
He hears Armie sigh somewhere behind him. He almost closes his eyes to sleep before he remembers he still has to say goodbye and thank you again to Armie, how could he forget --- but then he feels the bed sink down behind him and Armie's unmistakeable presence slipping under the sheets with him.

  
Henry tries to turn to see what's up that Armie had to get into bed with him, but that tall warm frame suddenly drapes an arm over his waist and draws even closer at his back making him freeze in his position at his side.

  
"Sorry, I couldn't resist. You were shaking so bad," Henry feels the warm puff of breath near the back of his ear, and the involuntary shiver that runs through him was definitely not just because of the chills.

  
"You don't have to do this either, you know." Henry hopes his voice came out light like a jest and not strangled, but in his brain he feels like he's failing spectacularly.

  
Armie just snuggles further into his space in response, those long legs gently stretching along his pajamas and his foot slightly brushing against Henry's sole. "It's just sharing body heat. Until your chills stop. Just sleep and stop thinking about it."

  
Henry couldn't even think on how to do that, when Armie drops another lazy murmur at his nape with that deep baritone of his, "Besides, I don't mind doing it to someone I'm besotted with either." There was a slight pause, before he adds as if in retrospect, "Somehow that just doesn't sound as posh coming from my mouth."

  
Though feeling a bit shaken with what Armie just said, but refusing to believe he actually means it, Henry manages to elbow him at the ribs for good measure, chuckling a bit, "Yeah, it sounds so bad."

  
"Just sleep, Henry. I order you," Armie says in his worst imitation of a royal's voice, and Henry can't help but snicker. And hope he did a good job of playing it cool with that.

  
Sometime along being torn on what he should say further to make things even less awkward and just letting himself enjoy the warmth slowly bringing him down from his chills, the exhaustion and most likely the meds won over Henry, buoying him to just settle down and close his eyes with that comforting weight of Armie almost fully wrapped around him. He's not sure if Armie had also slept along with him at his back, but that warm, measured breath at his neck was like a steady and calming presence for his nerves.

  
Sometime along that as well, he thought he felt a kiss press at the back of his neck, but he couldn't be sure of that either.

  
At least, for once, Henry didn't feel so alone.


End file.
